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Frank Hobbs was an interesting character. He would show up at open mics and poetry readings, read his Depression Poetry, and scare the hell out of the front row. Over 6 foot tall, dressed in black, hair spiked up, he would talk about life from his perspective, with too much information, gory details, and an honesty that both amuses and frightens. Frank Hobbs died selling his home made poetry magazines on the streets in NY in 1996 at the age of 30 after an altercation with a bouncer that didn't want him hanging out in front of his bar's door. Frank was bad for business, and Frank received a serious beating (Frank was vulnerable being ex-junkie HIV+), where friends found him in an empty doorway bleeding. He died on route to the hospital. His last words were reported to be, "...it figures."

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euli dice
hi - i just heard about this - i was good pals with Frank - met him in the early 90s on the street in SF when i was a traveling punk - he came to my spoken word show in SF & we became pals - he would come & visit my squat in NYC & I typed a bunch of his poetry into a word program for him as he dictated - in 1996 he was getting a bit messed up again & he came to NYC - i saw him about an hour before he died - to this day i wish i had stayed with him!! - i will never forgive myself! - i found out the next day that he had died of cardiac arrest - his heart had just stopped - again - this had happened to him before & he had survived - i had to call everyone close to him to tell them what had happened & i think i have never done anything harder in my life - & then i had to go & I.D. him at the morgue - & i just want to tell you - Frank's Depression was smiling!!! - i wrote a piece about him that said his "expression" said "it fckn figures" - this piece was widely published & i'm not sure but that might be where the rumor of his "last words" came from - i really don't think that anyone heard any actual last words from him - Stiches was the last person with him - he said they both passed out in a doorway on St Mark's Place (the old location of St Mark's Bookshop) after Frank was beaten up by the bouncer - I never heard anything about excessive bleeding - it was cardiac arrest that killed him apparently & when I went to the ER they told me it was a drug overdose - Stitches never said anything about excessive bleeding - less than a year later Stiches was dead of a drug OD - fckn figures - right? - xfly ps - i also have a HUGE collection of Frank's Depression poetry & I used to do the "Day of Depression" every August 21st at ABC No Rio - that was the day Depression died

publicado 16 de nov. a las 21:52 PST

iconacraft dice
I grew up with Frank in Portland Maine, and he was one of the most decent people you could ever hope to meet. I have been collecting photos, videos, and writing and posting it all at: http://FranksDepression.com

publicado 16 de nov. a las 10:44 PST

thehermit dice
Well, it's about time! Thank you SO much for finally publishing Frank's poetry. I met Frank around 1993 or 4 in Boston. He popped out of a dark alley behind me and said, "Hey! Do you like to read??" I bought a book of his poetry for $1, and we became friends. Frank was not only a great writer, but one of the truly most decent people you could ever hope to meet. Again, thanks for putting this out.